Sense of Balance
by Fenris13
Summary: ON HAITUS Katara, 21, works in that little bookshop on the corner. She also has the worst balance ever. Zuko, 23, enters the shop with the intention of buying a book. He finds himself returning once a week. Zutara AU
1. First Impressions

Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: the Last Air bender, because I am not male. Thus I am not Michael or Bryan. If I _were_ Michael or Brian, I would have gotten the ending right, the ending in which _Zuko_ and Katara got together, not the alternate, _Aang_ and Katara getting together.

* * *

She had a downright_ terrible_ sense of balance. If she were to walk along a flat road, she would find the _one_ rock or root, and trip on it. Katara sighed. That was the fifth time that day she tripped on her shoelace. Sokka was always checking to make sure they were tucked in, but they always came out, and she always tripped on them. She often wondered why she never got a car, or maybe took the bus. With _her_ luck of course, both of them would crash within five minutes of her getting in. But, she didn't let that get her down. Every day, she walked the fifteen minutes to work at the little bookshop on the corner, helping people find what they were looking for, and keep out the riff raff. She enjoyed her job, and every day, she walked into work with a smile on her face, and every day, she left with it still there.

She walked into the small bookshop, and heard the little bells tinkle to signify the opening of the door. It shut behind her, and she inhaled the smell of parchment and the small hint of pine from the air-freshener behind the counter. Books lined the walls and shelves, and a few small tables were located in-between. She went over to the counter, set down her bag, and checked the cash register. Moving on, she checked inventory on the computer her boss had in the back room. Then, she flipped the closed sign outside, declaring the small shop open. She took off her coat, and dropped in on her bag, then pinned on her name tag. She was ready for the day.

It was a small ritual, but was done the same way every morning. She sat down on the small swivel chair in front of the register, and took out the book she had been working on that week. It was a cute love story with enough magic and action intertwined to make it satisfying. Hmmm…magic. With magic, maybe her problems with balance could be resolved. While she was reading, the tinkle of the door opening reached her ears. _Oh, a customer, and this early._ She looked up from her novel. A young man with shaggy black hair, white skin, and a large red scar over the left side of his face was walking in with his hands shoved in his pockets, and a scowl on his face. He was wearing a red t-shirt and dark blue denim jeans. A black hoodie sweatshirt was tied around his waist. He also looked like he really didn't want to be there.

Katara just smiled. Maybe He'll find something he liked. She went back to reading. The young man walked around, picking up books, reading the backs, then setting them back, until he found something on one of the shelves he liked. He walked over to her, and placed it on the counter. She lifted her eyebrows at the title. It was the same book she was reading. She smiled up at him.

"Will that be all, sir?" She asked politely. His scowl remained.

"Does it look like I have anything else?" He said in a gruff, raspy voice. She just blinked at his rudeness. Her smile remained. Cheerfully, she replied.

"Nope. I'll just ring this up for you…" She took the book, scanned it, and came up with the total.

"Seven thirty-two, please." He handed her eight dollars, and she gave him his change, and his book. "Have a nice day sir! And please come again!" He grunted, took his things, and promptly left the store. She sighed. So much for first impressions.

The rest of the day passed as it usually did. A few customers came in, bought a few books, and Katara was as polite to them as she was to the first one she had that day, although they were a bit more polite to her than he was. After the last customer came by, she closed up the shop, and headed home. However, she only tripped about three times the entire way, surprising her. This was the least amount she had managed to fall before in that amount of time, and it surprised her greatly. She arrived at her apartment, and called out to Sokka, announcing her presence. When no one called back, she assumed he was out on his date with his girlfriend, Suki. Their lemur, Momo, came out to greet her. She laughed, and picked him up, nearly toppling, but managed to catch herself.

Wait.

She caught herself? That never happens. She shook her head at her newfound balance, and was almost relieved when she fell backwards when she opened the refrigerator door to give Momo a snack.

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Hey. Who's cool, starting another fanfic that will undoubtedly take up the remainder of her time? I am. Please review!


	2. Mondays

Disclaimer: No, I do not own Avatar. Weep weep, cry cry, tear tear. I also do not own Stardust or Howl's Moving Castle.

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She had a terrible sense of balance. It was improving, but it was still terrible. Katara sighed. It was Monday once again. And for the third week in a row, the young man had come in to buy a book. She walked over to him and stuck out her hand, her regular smile plastered on her face.

"Katara." He looked up from the book he was looking at, his resident scowl where it normally was.

"What?" He hadn't heard her. Her smile grew a little wider.

"Katara. That's' my name. Nice to meet you." He slowly shook her hand. "Zuko." He returned. He then turned back to his book. She hovered by him expectantly. After a while, he looked up.

"Can I help you?" Zuko asked impatiently. She looked up into his face. "Hmm? Oh, no. I was just wondering what book you were reading." He went back to reading.

"_Howl's Moving Castle_ by Dianna Wynne Jones."

"Oh." She fidgeted for a little bit, looking around the empty store, looking at shelves, looking at books. She went back over to him.

"How do you like it?" He looked back up at her. "I would like it more if you stopped interrupting me." He looked back at his book.

"Oh! Is something exciting happening?" He closed his eyes, and breathed in, then back out. "Yes. Now will you _please_ go away?" She looked at him, her smile never leaving her face. "But there's nothing to _do_." He stared at her as if she were crazy. In an exasperated tone, he said, "You're in a _book_ store. Read a _book_, and leave people who _are_ reading alone! Like me!" He stalked away to one of the more remote tables in a corner. She sighed. Oh well. She sat down in her swivel chair and began reading her new book. _Stardust_ by Neil Gaiman. It was odd, like most books by Neil Gaiman were, but it was very interesting, and she liked it a lot. Soon she was so immersed that she didn't notice when Zuko came over to buy his weekly book. He rapped on the desk. "Excuse me?" Katara was startled out of her book. She looked up.

"Oh, sorry! How may I help you?"

"I'm buying a book."

"Oh, of course. Let me just…" She rang it up. Again, as it had been the week before, and the week before that, it was the same as the book she was currently reading. "Your total is—"Zuko cut her off.

"Seven thirty two. Right. Thanks. See you next week." She blinked after him. Had he just been polite? More importantly, had he just _smiled_?

* * *

She walked home, tripping several times on the cracks in the side walk. The mystical change in her balance continued, and soon she was even managing to fall on her face only once or twice a day instead of every time she fell. When she walked in the door, she saw Sokka and Suki kissing on the couch.

"Ugh, c'mon, guys, get a room." Sokka scowled at her as she placed her key on the hook, and her stuff on the table. "We _had_ a room until you came in. Shouldn't you still be at work? It's only six." She rolled her eyes. "No, I shouldn't be at work, because it's not six, it's eight. Get a watch, or find a better way of keeping track of time. "Well _excuse_ me…" He grumbled. Suki chuckled.

"Hey Katara. How was work? Is the moody emo guy still there?" She rolled her eyes. "Hey Suki. Work was fine, and yes, _Zuko_ is. He is not emo." She raised an eyebrow. "Oh, you learned his name. But he is moody." Katara slumped as Suki continued to pester her.

"Yes, he is moody." She walked over to the kitchen, catching her foot on the corner of the wall and tripping a little. "But something crazy happened today." Suki looked interested. "Oh?" Katara grabbed a soda from the fridge, and popped it open.

"Yeah, he actually _smiled_ today, _and_ he was polite." Suki's eyes widened. "Mr. Moody was _polite_?" Katara nodded. She took a swig of her soda, effectively spilling it on the front of her shirt.

"But only at the counter. I was, uh, kind of pestering him while he was reading." She looked sheepish. She walked over toward the bathroom to clean up. "But at least that was something."

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Score. Another chapter. Please Review!


	3. Competition

Disclaimer: I do not own A:TLA, but I do own this story, and an axe, and a phonebook! (Don't worry, I probably couldn't find you using a phonebook! :D)

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She had a horrible sense of balance. If she walked into a china shop, she would end up breaking at least a dozen things. Luckily, she didn't work in a china shop. She worked in a book shop.

Katara walked into work on Friday, as impatient as a school child for the end of the day. A whole weekend of being lazy. When she sat down to read her latest book, she heard the small tinkle of the bells and the creak of the door as it opened. She looked up.

A young woman with dark brown hair entered the shop, with a look of disgust on her face. It turned her beautiful features almost ugly in its contempt, thin eyebrows rested above cruel amber eyes. Two locks of hair lined her face, the rest brought up in a topknot. And she looked for all the world like Zuko. Albeit, a cruel, female Zuko, without any hint of compassion in her features, but could definitely be a relative of Zuko.

"So, _this_ is that little bookshop Father is so worried about. Pitiful, if you ask me."

Katara was startled by the crisp, uncaring voice coming from the woman.

It was very different from Zuko's voice. She seemed to be talking to no one in particular. Katara frowned.

"I don't see what is so intimidating about it. No modernization, no ads, nothing. Just cheap-ass books."

Katara inwardly gasped. All of the books in this shop were filled with good literature. They had an assortment of genres, including a wall for small children's books.

She walked over to the rude customer with gritted teeth.

"May I help you?" It was hard to say it in a cheerful voice.

The woman looked down her nose at her, and sniffed. "No, I think I've seen enough."

She left the shop, leaving Katara rather pissed off. Katara closed her eyes tightly, and breathed. _That's it Katara, breathe._

She unclenched the fist she had not realized had closed, and walked stiffly back to the counter, where she sat down–well, she tripped, and landed on her chair–, and slowly opened her book. Unable to concentrate, she closed it, and looked around the shop. She stroked the counter.

_You most certainly are _not_ cheap-ass books. You are wonderful, and eventually, I will read you all. In fact, I'm already on the H's._

She opened her book once more, and soon was sucked into the fantasy world it presented.

*oOo*

The following Monday, Zuko walked in with his sweatshirt, his jeans, and his red t-shirt. Often, Katara wondered if he had a specific outfit for each day of the week.

Currently though, Katara was unaware of Zuko's presence, and trying to place a stack of books where they went on the shelves, at the top of a ladder. They had already fallen several times when she clumsily knocked into them with her elbow, or they slipped out of her grip, causing her to have to get down, pick them up, and climb back up the ladder each time. Placing books on the shelves was always slow work for Katara, and often left her frustrated.

Zuko looked up at her on top of the ladder, trying to push a book into the shelf, and smiled, shaking his head. He grabbed an interesting book from one of the shelves on the wall, and was soon immersed in it, not realizing how dangerously close he was to Katara.

Katara stood on tip toe as she tried to shove the book into the right spot. When it finally got in, she lowered her heel, and moved to grab another book, but her foot slipped.

She fell.

She shrieked, and tried to find purchase on the air, then shut her eyes, bracing for impact.

She did not expect it when she hit something else much sooner.

Zuko was shoved to the ground as Katara ran into his back, his arms flung out in front of him, book a few feet away from his face, which was now acquainting itself with the carpet.

"Gerr'off o me!" He tried to say through the ground.

Katara immediately jumped off of his back.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry! I didn't mean to, I'm such a klutz, oh my gosh, are you okay?"

She frantically paced around him. He just lay there, and started to chuckle. He raised his head off the floor.

"I'm fine, just try not to do that again." He got up, and picked up the book, brushing it off.

"Are you _sure_ your okay?" He nodded.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He went back to his book, and Katara went back to placing books on the shelves.

When she finished, she climbed back down–carefully–, and went back to the counter. When he brought the book he had chosen for the week, she asked him about the woman who had come in that last Friday.

"Hey Zuko, do you have a sister?" He stiffened.

"What about her?" He asked in an almost cold voice. Katara was a little taken aback.

"Oh its probably nothing..." He stared at her.

"Well, a young woman came into the shop last Friday, and she looked like a relative of yours. " Zuko narrowed his eyes. "Brown hair, amber eyes, a permanent look of disgust on her face?" She nodded. Zuko sighed and closed his eyes, nodding.

"Yeah, that's her."

Katara looked at him. "Well, she said some mean things about the shop, and something about her father worrying about it. Do you know what she was talking about?"

Katara looked curious, her head cocked to the side. Zuko took in a deep breath, and beckoned to her, starting to walk over to one of the tables. She followed him, growing more and more confused by the moment.

Zuko sat down, and leaned forward, resting his clasped hands on the table. Katara sat down, her arms and her sides.

"Alright. First off, my name is Zuko Sozin. My father, Ozai Sozin, owns Sozin Books." Katara raised her eyebrows. That was a major corporation. "He's power-hungry–he wants to own every and all bookstores. Any chain or shop that is doing well he considers a threat, and will do anything he can to eliminate the threat, whether its buying them off, or burning down the shop." Katara's eyes widened in horror. Burn books? Zuko took a deep breath.

"He was going to name me the next head of the corporation. I didn't want anything to do with it. My mother and I did not approve of his dealing with the people he hired to take out bookstores, leave a message, whatever he could to scare them into packing up shop. At one of his major business meetings, I spoke out of turn, and later that day, he punished me. It's how I got this." He ran a hand over the scar, as if trying to cover it.

She smiled sadly, and took his hand away from it, and stroked the smooth scar tissue, the place his eyebrow should be, and the ridge where it connected with the live skin on his cheek. He matched her sad smile. She dropped her hand as he continued.

"After that, he officially disowned me, and I live with my uncle in an apartment. My mother had divorced and left him several years before, right after my grandfather died. I was fourteen." Katara looked sadly at him.

"It's alright–I didn't really like my grandfather. He continued the expansion of the company. Anyway, Azula, my younger sister, was always Ozai's pride and joy. She knew exactly what to say, and what to do. She is also as sly as a fox, and lies come faster to her than truth. She now acts as my father's lackey, scoping out the competition. That's why she was in the shop on Friday. She was evaluating the shop, and there is no doubt in my mind that Ozai plans on burning this shop to the ground."

Katara looked down at her hands on the table, her face unreadable. Suddenly, she looked up at Zuko and smiled. "Well then. I guess we just can't let him."

"Darn tootin' we can't," Said a leathery old voice from behind her. Her smile grew, and she turned around. "Mr. Pakku!" She exclaimed excitedly. "Your back!"

"Yep, an' I brought wit' me a deal for a shipment o' comic books. That's what da kids like these days, right?" She nodded in agreement, and gave him a hug, although he looked to Zuko like someone who did _not_ get hugged.

"Now, now, Katara. We have a customer." He gestured toward Zuko. "An' I'll need some 'elp gettin' them comics into da new rack I got." Katara's face lit up.

"Why, Mr. Pakku, you got something new! I thought you were set in your old ways."

"Now I don' object none ta _comic books_! Those things are about as old as I am!" She laughed, a light, happy sound that Zuko thought she should make more.

*oOo*

Later in the week, Azula came by again, this time with friends. When Katara saw them, her eyes narrowed, and she frowned. She shut her book, and walked directly over to them.

"You see, Mai? Old, no modernization, no advertisement, and the books aren't even interesting. Not to mention the name. Kanna's Corner? What kind of stupid name is that?"

Katara was outraged. Kanna was the name of her grandmother–Mr. Pakku had had a crush on her ever since high school. When she rejected him, he had thrown himself into his business with a vengeance. "I think it's a nice name. This little store is _so _cute!" A happy voice came from one of the two girls on either side of Azula. She had a braid, and a huge smile.

"Would you shut up for five minutes, Ty? This shop isn't even worth our time." This came from the girl on the other side, Mai, who spoke in an extremely bored voice. "Let's just leave."

Katara reached them. "Excuse me, but is there anything you need help with?" Azula scoffed at her. "Just look at the help they have here. Pathetic." Katara gritted her teeth.

"Excuse me ma'am, but I'm afraid you will have to leave. If you aren't here to look at any of the books, and only to complain, you are wasting time, and producing a negative atmosphere." She recited what she always said to riff raff, what Mr. Pakku told her to say. Azula laughed at her.

"Even the customer service reeks in this place. Let's go." They turned and left the store, leaving Katara more angry at them then she was yesterday.

"That stinking, ratty, disgusting, filthy, _bitch_!" Katara was breaking boxes books came in inside the back room viscously, snapping several pieces in half accidentally, throwing it all on a pile of ripped cardboard. She didn't even bother with the box-cutter. She didn't even need it.

When she came home, too angry to realize she hadn't tripped once on the way home, and only falling back as she opened the door to the apartment furiously. She saw Sokka on the couch looking very much like a lost puppy, and she softened a little.

"What's wrong?" Sokka continued to stare on the ground behind the back of the couch as Katara placed her things on the table.

"Suki is going to her home to celebrate her cousins' wedding." She nodded. "Oh." She moved towards the kitchen, grabbed a soda, and turned back to him.

"Hey Sokka, could you..." He looked up at her with sad, sad eyes. "Never mind." She went over to the phone, and dialed a number. It rang for a moment, then a young, boyish voice answered. "Hey Katara!" She smiled.

"Hey Aang. I have a favor to ask you..."

* * *

Yesterday, I did not post anything because 1. I was thinking up stuff for 30 Roads, and I was planning an outline for this story! Yay for outlines! Now, I have a general idea of where this story is going to go! And the chapters aren't so short! *Shriek Aaaa! Azula! The modern motives of Ozai revealed! Yes, I know, cliché 'head of an organization' but it works! And she fell on top of him! Yesss...and so the klutziness becomes a good thing! Please Review! (And yes, I do like exclamation points, and random out of order plot comments!)

**Later Note:** I changed up this chapter a little, fixed some typos, and changed up the format so it looks longer, like regular fanfiction is. With the indents every few sentences or so. Cuz the length was bothering me. Don't judge me!


	4. Bad Boys

Disclaimer: Need I say more? Didn't think so.

* * *

She had an awful sense of balance. It seemed no matter what she carried, she would spill it, she would drop it, it would slip out of her hands. Whether it was a book, a drink, a bag, or her keys. Or the heavy box filled with comic books the moment it hovered over Iroh's feet.

Iroh cringed, and Katara gasped.

"Oh, Iroh, I am _so_ sorry!" She scrambled to lift the box of his throbbing toes. He forced himself to relax the muscles in his face into his usual smile.

"Oh, it's nothing, Miss Katara. I'll be fine."

Mr. Pakku had just gotten the shipment of comic books, and Zuko and his Uncle Iroh had agreed to help bring them in. Iroh was a somewhat old man, about as old as Mr. Pakku, a strong believer in proverbs, a great lover of tea, and a little shorter and a lot rounder than Zuko. He was also much calmer than his nephew. More patience.

While Iroh and Katara were putting those boxes away, Aang was outside with Zuko, picking up their boxes. Katara's friend Aang had happily agreed to come help out.

Aang was a thin, bald teenager about 19, and wore an orange robe. It was one of those rebellious teenage statements, going well with the blue arrow tattoos that twisted along his limbs and along his head.

He was also gay.

And Zuko felt very uncomfortable around him, because all he was wearing was a _robe_. Opened down the _navel_. And, to top it all off, Aang was apparently _flirting_ with him, badly, using terrible pick-up lines that would never work.

"Hey Zuko. You tired? Cause you've been running through my mind all day."

Zuko sighed, and rolled his eyes, hefting a box of comic books on his shoulder.

"Aang, you've only known me two hours. At the most. And, for the thousandth time. I'm not interested."

Aang waggled his eyebrows. "You mean, you aren't interested _yet_."

Zuko slammed the box down on one of the tables.

"Aang. I am not interested now. I've never _been_ interested. I'm not _going_ to be interested in the future. I'm not gay. _Stop hitting on me_."

Aang giggled at him. Or at least, what Zuko considered a giggle.

"Alright." Zuko gaped at him.

"_Alright?_ For the past _two hours_ you have been hitting on me. Two. Hours. And all I had to do was tell you I had no intentions of ever changing my sexual preferences?" Aang nodded.

"It was my plan to figure out what kind of guy you were. Now I know why Katara likes you."

Zuko blinked.

"Huh?"

Aang rolled his eyes, and set his box down next to Zuko's. "She likes you. Like, likes you likes you." They leaned against the edge of the table.

"I was making sure you were a good guy first before I let you get into a serious relationship with Katara. She's been hurt before, believe it or not." Aang shook his head. "Somehow, she just finds the most terrible guys to get into a relationship with."

Zuko turned his head to look at him. "Really?"

"Oh yeah. First there was Haru. He was a nice guy. Very nice, long hair, hints of a mustache, and a great body. I think he was a bodybuilder, or a football player. Whew." Zuko rolled his eyes.

"So anyway, when Katara met Haru at a little coffee shop, they hit it off right away. Like I said, he was a great guy, very likeable. They dated for a while. Sokka got all up in their business, but he liked Haru, and he was a bit pre-occupied with Suki, his girlfriend, so he didn't really harass them as much as he should have. Katara met his mom. And that was when the trouble started."

Zuko raised his remaining eyebrow. "Oh?"

"It turns out; Haru had been living with his mom, just scraping by, because his dad was gone. His dad was gone because his dad was in jail. And his dad was in jail because he had stolen some jewelry for an old man."

Zuko lowered his eyebrow and wrinkled his forehead. "Stealing jewelry...for an old man? I could see stealing for a woman he was cheating on his wife with, but an old man?"

Aang continued. "See, apparently the old man had asked Haru's dad to get into 'his' house to get a necklace he had been saving for some relative's birthday. Of course, Haru's dad was a really nice guy, a really naive guy, and had accepted."

Zuko gave Aang a confused look. "Why was he naive for helping an old man?"

"He was naive because the man did not give him a key, requested he do it in the middle of the night, as silently as possible, and not to allow anyone to see him."

The confusion was immediately cleared up. "Ah. Yeah. That _is_ kind of naive."

"So, anyway, his dad did as the man asked. No one saw him. The man thanked him, and Haru's dad went off on his way, glad he could help. But, the family he stole from had noticed the absence of the necklace—which was a precious family heirloom, by the way—and his father had left clear evidence he had been there, thinking 'it's just the old man's house, no harm done'. They called the cops, and the item he had left was enough evidence against him, he got sent to jail.

So then Haru tells Katara his father was wrongly accused, that the judge was corrupt, the jury was prejudiced. So he asked her to help him bust him out. And she did."

"Really?" Zuko was unconvinced.

Aang nodded. "Oh yeah! And then, you know what happens? After they bust out his dad, he leaves. If the cops found out who did it, Katara could've been sent to jail as an accomplice. He didn't even thank her, or say goodbye. He and his family just left. She knocked on the door one day, and they were gone."

"That's terrible!"

Aang sighed. "The next guy was much worse. His name was Jet. He seemed awesome. He was smooth, handsome, sexy, and had a really great upper body. Very good fashion sense. He got the rugged hero down to a tee." Zuko rolled his eyes. "He was the leader of a gang, though. The Freedom Fighters. They didn't do any serious stuff, not that we knew of."

"But they got involved in a turf war with a gang called the Pyros. The Pyros wasn't a very nice gang, not nearly as cool as Jet's gang. They did bad things. Worse than what most gangs did—they did a lot of things with fire. Arsonists, every one of them. Jet didn't like arsonists; his home burned down, and his parents were killed in the fire. He learned later the fire was purposefully set. Suddenly, this had become personal, and the war started to get nasty. Jet started to get nasty. They began doing things they never did before. Stealing, mugging, vandalizing. All to get to the Pyros' gang members. They even mugged an old man who just so happened to be passing through, just so happened to wear clothing the same color the Pyros wore. " Aang stared at the floor.

"Then, Jet asked Katara to do something he shouldn't have considered doing, shouldn't have considered asking Katara to help with. Of course, Katara didn't know what his true intentions were."

Zuko frowned. "What were they going to do?" Aang looked up at Zuko.

"Jet was going to set fire to the apartment the family members of the Pyros' lived in. All of them. The mothers and fathers and brothers and sisters. The children. He told Katara that they needed the old clothes for the children's center; they needed the rags because they were cleaning out their homes. She didn't know they were going to soak the cloth in gasoline. She didn't know they were going to plant them in the apartments. She didn't know they were going to light it while they were sleeping, and burn down the building, effectively getting rid of the Pyros for good. Give the arsonists a taste of their own medicine."

"What happened?" Zuko asked.

"Sokka knew. He knew what Jet was doing. See, he didn't like Jet from the start. He was suspicious of anyone who dated his little sister. He was suspicious of me for just hanging out with Katara until he learned I was gay. But Sokka knew Jet wasn't as good-intentioned as he made himself out to be. It wasn't just about 'keeping people from being hurt by the Pyros'. Jet was much too vicious for that. So Sokka went to the apartments, and he got everyone out before they lit the fires. Everyone was safely out of the building before it went up in flames."

"That's good." Aang nodded. "Yeah. No kidding." They sat in silence for a while.

"So…what happened to Jet?" Aang chuckled. Zuko decided Aang didn't giggle, he chuckled.

"Well, Katara was very pissed at Jet, and felt very hurt by Jet. She had trusted him, and from the very beginning he had been lying to her to get what he wanted. Last I had seen he had been black and blue all over, and _frozen_ to the side of a building. The cops had come by, picked him up, and dumped him in jail."

Zuko was suddenly had more respect and a little more fear for and of Katara than he previously did. How in the world could someone _freeze_ someone to the side of a building?

"Nice." Aang chuckled.

"I think you mean _ice_." Zuko punched his shoulder.

"That, was a terrible joke."

"Hey!" Zuko looked up to see Katara and Iroh standing in front of the table they were sitting on.

A smile was stretched over Katara's face where it usually was.

"C'mon! We still have a few boxes to unload!"

As Aang and Iroh followed her out, Zuko took a little longer, spending some time watching her.

_How does she go on?_

* * *

Whew. That was a long chapter with lots of explaining and lots of sympathy gathering for Katara. It was a bitch to write. I had some trouble figuring equivalents for Haru's father. But I supposed it worked. It has been so long since I last updated this—since 8/7/09. Eugh. Thank you my Good and Faithful who stay with me! I love you! Please Review!


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